Hi Oscar,
We at 2Shades think you are art. We love your openness about living with addiction, and we would love to know more.
Thank you so much—that’s a wonderful thing to say. And thank you for having me. It was lovely meeting you at the Routine exhibition recently.
I’m Oscar, an artist based in London. I make a lot of different things, but mostly graphic illustrations that revolve around fashion, comic books, or BDSM. I’m a recovering alcoholic and addict. I’ve been sober for a while now, and I’ve been working on both my creative career and rebuilding my life—I’m even back at university. I love bold colours, especially red (my absolute favourite), which features heavily in my work. But sometimes, just simple black-and-white linework can be really rewarding too. You’ll usually find me watching horror movies, rocking out to the Sugababes, drawing some femme fatale in a fabulous outfit—or playing video games, of course.
I’ve been drawing for as long as I can remember. It’s been a way for me to express so much—my sexuality, my adoration of femininity, my experience as a queer person, or just the thrill of an incredible superhero fight scene. Now I’ve had the chance to exhibit and work as an illustrator, which has been amazing. I’m only getting better, so I’m excited to see what the future holds.
What does it feel like to create, for you?
For me, creating is perfect concentration and calm. My head is usually full of thoughts—non-stop—except when I’m drawing or designing. That’s when everything quiets down. I get totally absorbed in the world of the piece, in the details of the colours—or I just disappear into the flow of (deafening) music and let the pen take me somewhere new.
I’ve grown a lot as an artist since getting sober. I had to figure out how to be creative again, because my addiction robbed me of that desire—and the ability. I worried it wouldn’t come back. Part of me thought art was lost to me, or at least the passion for it was.
Thankfully, it came back—but it feels different now. These days, I create with less intention and let my emotions and the pen guide me. Trusting my skills is a big part of that. I’m the best I’ve ever been, and there’s a sense of security in that, because it allows me to just let go. That freedom is why creativity is such a safe space for me.
When you’re an addict, so much of your life is micromanaged. I avoid certain places when I’m too tired or upset because the pull of alcohol or drugs can be dangerous when I’m not stable. I have to constantly protect myself in a world where addiction is everywhere. Being around alcohol and drugs is exhausting—so I make sure I recharge, or I crash.
Creation is free of all the mental admin I have to do every day around addiction. That’s why it’s such a solace. I get to be somewhere else, someone else—feeling, seeing, and doing something else. It’s incredibly freeing.
Can you remember the earliest thing you created artistically?
Absolutely. I’ve always loved comic books and still collect them—I’ve got hundreds in my room. They were my gateway into art. I used to print out images of my favourite characters at primary school and try to redraw them as best I could.
Around that time, I also became obsessed with the brides of Dracula—after seeing Van Helsing with Kate Beckinsale. Those brides were everything to a young gay boy from South London. Flowing sleeves that turned into wings? Iconic.
I also drew Storm, Elektra, Catwoman, and Raven from Teen Titans because I grew up watching all those shows, not even realising there were decades of comics about these amazing women I could be reading. I started copying comic pages and poses from books I bought or found online. Comic artists are incredibly underrated—the technical and artistic skill needed is mind-blowing.
Redrawing other artists’ work was how I learned. It’s a great skill to develop early on. Even now, I love watching artists create on YouTube. That’s how I pick up new techniques—watching how someone shades or sketches anatomy, then figuring out how I’d do it. I tell every new artist I meet: understand the process. See how other people use the medium. It’ll change your practice.
What correlation does addiction and art have for you?
Addiction seeps into parts of who I am and, by extension, my art. My obsessive focus on one subject or style until I burn out feels very much like addiction. My love of recurring colours or patterns feels repetitive—like addiction did.
But, honestly, addiction was the opposite of being an artist for me. Toward the end of my using, I just stopped creating. There was nothing left inside to work with—no soul to put into art. Addiction stole that from me. Even though it was my own doing, it still feels like a theft.
That whole “depressed addict artist” stereotype? It wasn’t me. There was no creating going on. I don’t know how people stay functional in addiction. I couldn’t. Everything outside of using and, occasionally, working just faded away.
That said, art can be just as self-indulgent as addiction—just without the destruction. And it can pay! Which is the opposite of addiction, where I only ever lost money. So in that way, it’s gratifying.
Do you have any stand-out influences in your creative journey?
Yes!
René Gruau is my favourite fashion illustrator. The first time I saw his work, I was blown away by his minimalism—but also by the drama and flair. His use of red (swoon) and sheer elegance… phenomenal.
Simone Bianchi is a comic book artist I’ve loved for over a decade. He paints many of his pieces, which makes them feel unique—especially in comics. His grasp of anatomy and colour is chef’s kiss. He drew Storm better than anyone at Marvel. Big hair, boots, cape—flawless.
Tim Sale is another one. Famous for Batman: The Long Halloween and one of my favourites, Catwoman: When in Rome. His work feels like a fashion illustrator started doing comics. Perfect intersection of the things I love. He passed recently, which devastated me. The industry lost a legend.
Music is also a huge influence. I have a very visual connection to it—like a movie trailer in my head. I never draw without music. It’s the emotional gateway to my creative brain. I often play the same song on repeat for hours when I’m trying to stay in a feeling.
Nowadays, my inspiration is more internal. I rarely use references unless I’m doing commissioned work. But I still like life drawing sometimes—to keep my skills sharp.
How did you control the battle with addiction?
I wouldn’t call it “control,” because there’s not much you can control. For me, it all comes down to one non-negotiable truth: Sobriety or death. If I use again, I know I’ll die. That’s not melodramatic—it’s just the reality. So there is no choice. I’ve worked too hard to rebuild my life and relationships. I’m not throwing that away.
I take my peace seriously. Work is work, but my life means more. If I don’t want to go out, I don’t. If I need a day to myself, I take it. I fought for my happiness. I’m not sacrificing it for anyone.
AA helped me massively—especially early on. Those people saved my life. But as it’s anonymous and not about promotion, I’ll leave it at that.
Do you remember your darkest moment dealing with addiction?
Yes. Any time I tried to end my life. It happened a few times during my addiction. Thankfully, I wasn’t successful—but I remember that feeling of walking around not wanting to be here. I truly believed the world would be better off without me.
That feeling consumed me for years. The only relief came through explosive, manic episodes that never ended well. I felt hollow, like I had nothing left to offer.
These days, I still have hard moments—days or even weeks of depression—but now I know it’s not forever. That helps. Therapy helps too. Lots of it.
What’s next in your journey?
I just graduated with a first in Graphic Design! So right now, I’m job hunting and creating more art. I’ve been lucky to exhibit a few times and would love to do more of that. I’ve also got some creative projects in the works I can’t talk about yet—but I want to do everything. I didn’t think I’d live past 21, so the fact that I have time now? That feels powerful.
I’d love to put my work on clothing. That would be amazing. But for now, it’s more art, more exhibitions—and staying open to new projects. Commission work has always surprised me in the best ways.
Do you feel people are quick to judge you?
Probably. But it doesn’t bother me.
I’m gay. I live in a world where my community is still criminalised in many countries. Judgment comes with the territory. I have a small circle of people whose opinions matter. Everyone else? Irrelevant.
I love heels, claws, and makeup sometimes. Any queer person will tell you: being visibly queer means being hyper-aware of how you’re perceived. But I’m not hiding any part of myself to appease someone else’s discomfort. That’s a terrible deal.
I’m also quite introverted now. I enjoy my own company. And if someone doesn’t like me? Not my problem. I’m not for everyone—and I don’t want to be. That sounds exhausting.
I’m not unkind. I’ll apologise if I’m wrong. I work hard in therapy so my issues don’t hurt my people. But I also stand by myself. If I’m not sorry, I don’t say it. There’s great power in saying, “I’m not sorry.”
And hey—I draw men being sexually tied up. I expect judgment. But art is made to be disliked as much as it is to be loved. If someone hates my work, great. That’s their job as the audience: to respond. Love or hate—it means it made them feel something. That’s all that matters.
Quick Fire
Sushi or Chinese – Neither
Kiss or Slap – Both
Bowie or Madonna – Madonna
Favourite Place in London – My house
First thing you’d change as mayor for a day – Free dental / Legal protections for trans people that can’t be undone by a moron
2Shades Magazine 